


The Garden

by kjkaf



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Psychological Drama, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22488451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjkaf/pseuds/kjkaf
Summary: Harry and Hermione are together in paradise. No war. No enemies. No worries. And it seems no memories. Although sometimes Hermione has the most disconcerting ... visions, for lack of a better term. And then there is the pair of red eyes
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am not affiliated in any way with JK Rowling or Warner Bros. I do not own the characters or any scenes coming from the Harry Potter series.
> 
> This story is set near the end of Book 7. Scenes from book 7 will be referenced but not directly quoted.
> 
> No relationships listed at this time, but may be added later on. Additionally, rating may go up in the future.
> 
> Cross posted on FanFiction.Net.

1.  
Startled eyes opened. She sat up quickly, looking around with confusion and fear. War. She had been fighting in a war. No. She was sitting in The Garden. There was no war. There was nobody to fight a war with. Only she and Harry were here. But it all had seemed so clear. And real. Her eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

She remembered screams, explosions and red eyes. A snake. A sword. Fire. Blinding, scorching fire that nearly consumed them. A castle. They’d been fighting in a castle. And there were bodies all around. Dead bodies. One of the lifeless bodies had red hair. A group of mostly alive redheads stood around the dead body in shock. Tears ran down her face. She couldn’t remember his name. Why couldn’t she remember his name?

Ron? No, not Ron. Ron was still alive. Ron had chosen to stay behind. Stay behind where? 

She stood up quickly, grabbing the nearby tree as she swayed and nearly fell over. She took a deep breath and looked around. To her right was a pond, serene and picturesque. Harry loved to watch the birds splash in the pond. Hedwig would have loved the pond. But Hedwig was dead. Wait. Who or what was Hedwig? Harry would know. Hedwig had been his after all. At least, she thinks Hedwig had been his. Reality seemed a bit blurry right now. 

She scanned the lush landscape further and found black, tousled hair peeking through the greenery. Harry. She sighed in relief.  
She walked thoughtfully over to him, nervously wondering if she had gone crazy. She sat down next to his side. A picture of a lightning shaped scar suddenly flashed in her mind. The vision quickly passed as Harry turned his scar-free head toward her and smiled. She shook her head dazedly and smiled back as he softly kissed her head, put his arm around her and pulled her into him. Her mind went peacefully blank. She was safe. With Harry. Nothing else existed or mattered. She closed her eyes and slept. Red eyes watched her. Dangerously happy red eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not JK Rowling, and her characters are owned by her.
> 
> Cross posted.

2.  
Light filtered through the grey mist of her mind. Her eyes fluttered open, and she realized the sun was already partway across the sky. She lazily stretched her body, enjoying the feeling of the cool grass against her skin. As she slowly sat up, she realized she was yet again alone. Harry always did like to disappear. Hopefully he wasn’t off stalking Malfoy again. A sudden image of a tall, pale young man with blonde hair, grey eyes and a permanent scowl came into her mind. He watched impassively as she thrashed around on the ground, screaming, crying, begging for the pain to stop. Mudblood, her mind told her. You’re nothing but a worthless mudblood. Nausea and dizziness quickly engulfed her, her vision spinning. It passed a moment later, and she couldn’t remember what she’d been thinking. Oh yes. Harry. 

She stood up and walked over to the pond. Harry sat on a rock near the edge of the water, silent and seemingly unseeing. He didn’t react to her presence next to him, so she gently touched his shoulder. She smiled when he turned his face up to hers, his green eyes looking lost for a moment before he came back to reality. He put his arm around her waist and tugged her down on his lap, wrapping the other arm around her and holding her tight. He went back to staring into the distance. She sat there, soaking up being with him. He was her best friend. She could sit here with him, saying nothing, and needing nothing, forever. A voice in the back of her mind pointed out the silence wasn’t normal. She wasn’t the type to remain silent or still - nor for that matter, was Harry. Their past hadn’t allowed a life of slothful nothingness. So why was she so content with the absolute stillness and calm now? She turned her head to talk this idea through with Harry and noticed his lips were moving. She leaned closer, but all she could hear was slight hissing. Why would Harry be hissing? She noticed his eyes were on the ground, and a quick glance revealed a snake. A large snake. A very large snake. With red eyes. The snake was staring at Harry, and it almost seemed like they were conversing. Neither seemed aware of her existence. Before she could turn back and ask Harry about the odd hissing, she heard a crash and a cry of pain. Blood was spurting all around. She was frantic. She had to get them out of the house. She knew something had been wrong with that old woman. And now she was trapped upstairs with her best friend bleeding out and screaming that He was on the way. They were dead. 

Someone was shaking her. She opened her eyes - she hadn’t remembered closing them - and saw Harry looking at her with concern in his eyes. She quirked her eyebrows up and he shook his head. She leaned back into his chest and sighed, content with life. Harry went back to staring at the water. She could stay like this forever. On the other side of the pond, the red-eyed snake silently slithered away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not JK Rowling, and her characters are owned by her.

3.  
Run. They had to run for their lives. One moment they'd been listening to loved ones over the radio, their voices - clear despite the static and distance - bringing a rightness they hadn't felt for months. Relief that not all was lost, that their sacrifices were appreciated. Harry's face lit up like he wasn't on the verge of breaking, as he had been frequently since Sirius had died. That precious calm that filled their souls suddenly turned into choking fear with one word - Voldemort. Flight from death. Ironic that they themselves were currently fleeing as fast as they could lest they meet their own death by Voldemort. Her senses went on high alert, and she flung a jinx in Harry's direction just as she was tackled and her wand ripped away from her grip. Oh Merlin, they were dead. Harry too lost against their attackers, but at least he wasn't easily recognizable. His ugly, swollen face turned in her direction, silently questioning. She willed him to think quickly, to save himself if nothing else. She could tell by the way his eyes narrowed that he understood what had to be done. Just as she opened up her mouth to give her alias, she heard Harry say her name. She felt herself shaking, with fear she assumed, all while Harry repeated her name over and over. She thought he'd understood. All she could do was stare off into space, her mind numb with all of the implications of him using both HIS name and hers... until she blinked her eyes and realized her hands were no longer being restrained and that Harry was leaning over her, shaking her slightly all while entreating her to snap out of her ... nightmare. 

When he saw she was back to reality, he wiped the tears that were steadily dripping down her face. She pulled herself up from laying prostrate on the ground and wrapped herself up in his arms, causing them both to fall over. Once they were settled, Hermione once again in his arms, he looked back in her eyes, worry clear on his otherwise blank face. "Do you..." she started to ask, before uncertainty pooled in her mind. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking her to continue on with her question. She closed her eyes and burrowed even closer into his embrace. She took a deep breath and continued. "Do you ever have strange ... memories, for lack of a better word?" Even less than a minute after her bad dream, the terror she had felt was fading, and she had a difficult time remembering just what had frightened her. She felt Harry pat her on the head, and she opened her eyes. His eyes still held concern for her but no judgement. She sighed, shook her head and rested it on Harry's shoulder. He pet her hair for a few moments, and then he let go of her and stood up. She watched him walk over to the pond, a snake slithering up to meet him. As he looked down at the snake she caught a flash of red from Harry's eyes. 'Voldemort,' her mind supplied. Her heart started beating faster, especially when the snake turned and looked right at her. As if there was a taboo on even thinking the name. Voldemort. Flight from death. Red eyes. Large snake. Despite the distance between her and the snake, she heard a long, low hiss, intense and full of threat. She launched up and quickly walked off in the opposite direction, towards the orchard. How could Harry be so calm around the snake, she wondered? Why had his eyes been red? And why did the snake care about an odd name?


	4. Chapter 4

4.  
Silence. Nothingness. Her mind was clear of everything. She felt free yet somehow empty. All around her was white, as if she was laying on a blank canvas. She tried to shake it off, tried to make herself wake up – for surely this had to be a dream. But nothing worked. Instead she was left to drift along all alone. Every time a memory would start to color the stage in her head, it would slip out. She was trapped. 

How long had she been here? She couldn’t tell. No longer was the emptiness comforting. She felt caged. She tried to scream, to yell, to whisper. The void captured all sound, all sight, all life. She felt herself panicking, a vicious cyclone of anxiety taking root in her body. She was going to die. All alone. Would anybody even miss her, mourn her? ‘Harry would,’ her mind supplied. Poor Harry. He would be left behind with only a snake for company. Wait. Harry. Snake. Hissing. Red eyes. Pressure built in her head as she forced herself to think about something other than death. What was that name that was too dangerous to even think? V… Vollll… Voldmer? ‘VOLDEMORT!’ Pain slammed through her head, harsh and all encompassing. She grabbed onto it like a lifeline, embracing the feeling, any feeling. ‘Voldemort,’ she repeated inside her head. Red colored the previously blank canvas. “Voldemort,” she whispered, the taste of blood thick on her tongue, the feel of it dripping down her face. “VOLDEMORT, VOLDEMORT, VOLDEMORT,” she screamed to the void, the sound breaking through and surrounding her. And then she screamed again as pain lanced through her body, going out of one limb only to enter another with more energy. “HARRY”, she yelled, trying to warn her best friend before the pain killed her, “HARRY, the snake’s name is VOLDEMORT!” Her body shook with tremors as the pain burned her, every nerve on fire. Red tinged her eyes, blood covered her mouth and nose, and she heard a long, low hiss. She felt the snake – ‘Voldemort,’ she reminded herself, as her head threatened to split open – slithering up her body. Red eyes devoured her, as her body shut down. She could no longer see or hear it – ‘VOLDEMORT,’ she practically yelled from her mind at the snake – but she could feel it. Before she could think any more, sharp fangs ripped into her throat, and her world went black.


	5. Chapter 5

5.  
Running. Quick. Faster. Harry’s visions came in useful sometimes. They needed to kill the snake. But Voldemort (PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN) wouldn’t let it out of his sight. It was the last one left though, so even if they had to venture into hell itself (hadn’t they already been there?), then that’s what they would do. They ran past all of the destruction, all of the death, all of the blood. As if they were cowards. Maybe they were. It was easier to think about the last remaining Horcrux (PAAAAAAAAIIIIIIINNNNNNNNN) than who might be dead around them. Kill the snake. And then kill the snake-looking man. Because once they killed the snake he’d actually be a man, rather than the demon god he currently was.

They made it to the shack, barely fitting through the tunnel that had made even their 13-year-old selves claustrophobic. She tried to settle her lungs from bursting out of her body so she could focus on the situation. She wanted to try to keep them from dying as long as possible, and that required her to be able to think. But that was difficult when she could hear Voldemort (AAAAAAHHHHHH) pontificating to Snape (Professor Snape). What was he saying? Why did any of this matter, and why was Snape so insistent on finding Harry? She hadn’t thought Snape was the traitor that Harry swore he was, and even now the tone of his voice was odd… almost as if he was desperate. He knew something. Maybe after they killed the snake he would help them kill Voldemort (OH MERLIN THE PAIN. MAKE IT STOPPPPP). As if HE could read her thoughts, HE ordered the snake to kill Snape. She was frozen in place, something about the scene feeling reminiscent. She watched as the snake hissed, long and low, and slowly slithered up the length of the petrified body. The snake’s fangs struck Snape’s throat, over and over, blood everywhere. HE left, allowing the snake to leave at its leisure behind him, completely unconcerned with the death scene behind him. As soon as Voldemort (KILLLLLL MEEEEEEEEE) was gone, they jumped out of the tunnel and into the room. She tried to staunch Snape’s wounds, but it was too late. Snape gurgled, unable to talk, and quickly losing the ability to breath. His memories leaked out like tears. He soon died, pale and bloodless; the bites from the snake littering his throat. Hermione stared, a strange memory entering the back of her mind. Her hand went up to her throat as if it was a separate entity. She found nearly identical holes to Snape’s. She cried out for her companions, but they were gone. She looked down, but Snape was no longer on the ground. Where Snape’s body had been was now her own. Pale, bloodless, and seemingly dead. She turned and tried to exit the shack through the tunnel, but it was blocked by some invisible force. As she headed towards the door, she found herself petrified. Her breath came in shallow pants, panic flowing through her. Black spots entered her vision. She tried to scream, to call for someone to save her. No sound came out. She fell over, stiff as a board. Her breathing stopped, and she passed out.


	6. Chapter 6

6.  
Floating. Her body, mind, soul (wasn’t it all the same thing?) were all floating, with just the hint of pain in her subconscious. She’s stuck deep in a pile of comfort edged with discomfort. She tries over and over again to push through the bubble around her. But each time she seems to just bounce back to where she was before. Why is she always trying to fight against the silence and the calm? ‘Just relax,’ something deep in her soul tells her. No. She doesn’t quit. She wants to be awake. ‘Are you sure,’ the voice asks her? ‘It’s painful on the outside. And people leave you.’ This gives her pause. Harry wouldn’t leave her, would he? But even as she thinks this, she remembers his strange attachment to the snake. Maybe he loves the snake more than he loves her. 

She wakes up, pain radiating every part of her body. She feels stiff, as if she hasn’t moved for days. Even though the pain is almost debilitating, she sits up to find Harry. She needs to talk to him. All of these strange dreams… no, memories are starting to get to her, and she wants to talk to her best friend about them. He’ll understand. Strange things have always happened to him. Plus, she needs to warn him about the snake, even though deep down she feels he won’t heed her warning. She looks across The Garden, and finally locates him. He’s sitting next to the pond with the snake looped around his shoulders. The snake’s head is in front of Harry’s head and they are gazing into each other’s eyes, almost as if the snake was hypnotizing Harry - ‘or reading his mind,’ her mind unhelpfully offers. She tries to call out to him, but her voice isn’t there. She wants to run over to him, pull the snake off, and apparate them away to safety. Wait, apparate? And where else is there to go? The Garden is where they live. She can’t exactly remember anywhere else. Although, now that she’s thinking about it, there HAD to have been somewhere else. The Garden isn’t exactly a self-sufficient type of place. 

She lays back down and stares up at the clouds, gracefully floating across the sky with no cares in the world, in direct contrast to her. Her body feels like lead, far too heavy. She lays there and lets despondency consume her. Harry doesn’t love her like he loves the snake. He didn’t stop the snake from biting her. She doesn’t have anyone else. The voice was right - people just leave you. She drifts off into an uneasy sleep.

Nobody had told her that camping would be such a hellish prospect, particularly when you didn’t have food and were there with your maybe-boyfriend who wasn’t used to starving. She tried, but it’s not like she was the queen of domesticity. Also, she wasn’t accustomed to cooking with magic. Her parents were muggles, and while Hogwarts was a hands-on learning environment, they didn’t teach you how to feed three people from nothing. In fact, they taught you quite explicitly that you could not transfigure food from not food. Ugh. Sometimes she thought magic should have less rules and more, well, magic. She snapped back into focus as Ron came into the room. She and Harry were discussing possibilities, and Ron had been in an impossible mood, as usual. So, they just didn’t include him. He came back in to see them sitting near each other. He opened his mouth and she just knew that this was it. Everything had been sitting on a knife’s edge for quite some time, but now. Now. They just couldn’t go on like this. And indeed they didn’t.

Hermione chased after Ron as he stomped out of the camp, Harry yelling at Ron to leave the blasted necklace. Stupid Voldemort (AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH) making his stupid Horcruxes (PAAAAIINNNNNN). She begged Ron not to leave, but he wasn’t listening to her, just like Harry wasn’t listening to her about the snake (wait… what snake? Why would Harry have anything to do with Voldemort’s snake - FUUUUUCKKKK). Ron asked her to come with him, and when she told him no, she felt something snap between them. ‘I told you it would hurt more on the outside - people always leave,’ a voice inside her mind/soul told her. And leave he did. 

Hermione woke up crying. Nobody was nearby to comfort her. No mom or dad (‘of course they’re not here you silly girl, you obliviated them; they don’t even know you exist’), no Ron, and no Harry. She cried, not knowing who caused the most tears. After a few minutes determination set in. She wasn’t exactly sure if her parents or Ron actually existed, but Harry did. And she would get through to him about the snake if it killed her. ‘You foolish girl; he’s MINE. He’s ALWAYS been mine. Why are you so eager for more pain,’ the voice asked?

Ignoring her body aches, Hermione stood up and looked towards the pond. Harry was still there, although she couldn’t see the snake. Maybe her luck had turned. She walked over to him, calling out to him as she got closer. He was staring at the ground and didn’t even look up. She paused for a brief second but continued on. She stood right in front of him. No reaction from him. “Harry,” she asked? Nothing. “HARRY,” she yelled. Still nothing. She reached out her hand and grabbed his chin, lifting his face up towards hers. She forced him to make eye contact and gasped. Harry’s eyes were red. He let out a long, low hiss. She stared at him, in shock. And then she heard it. An answering hiss. Long, low, and angry. She turned around and saw the snake slithering towards them at a much faster pace than she had ever seen a snake move before. She let go of Harry’s chin and ran.


End file.
